You'll Feel Better
by DaeDreemer
Summary: N-JBC Story. Friendship too, is a vow of in sickness and in health.
1. Serena

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Gossip Girl."

**Author's Note: **Hello. :) So notes about this fic-- there will be four chapters to it, each chapter basically a quick one-shot. One chapter for each of N-JBC, spread out over the weekend (okay, one day you'll get 2, ;)). They're plot-less and mostly just me indulging my desire to see each of the N-JBC sick/hurt and being cared for by the other three. :P I really hope you'll choose to read them in the spirit they are offered, which is purely hurt/comfort fluff. :)

Thank you for reading.

* * *

**.2004.**

**.8th Grade.  
**

* * *

Serena's bed is a disarray of sheets and pillows with the comforter still strewn over half the bed, she's curled into a tight ball at the center of it and Blair's moving to her, sitting by her, before the boys even see what's going on. She has one leg bent on top of the mattress, the other on the floor; and her hands are brushing limp hair away from Serena's flushed face before she looks over at them with an alarmed expression, "She's burning up…"

Chuck and Nate freeze at the doorway, instantly out of their element; Eric pushes past them. "I think it's the flu," he offers, "I gave her Tylenol… and water..."

"Serena…" Blair calls for her, shaking her a little, "Sweetie, wake up…" then she looks over at Eric again, "What about food…?" She asks, adding, "You should have called me…" before finishing with, "And where's Lily?"

"Yeah," Nate seconds that sentiment—this is what Mom's are for, "Where's your Mom?"

"I tried food," Eric answers, "But she threw up," he looks over at Nate, "And Mom left on Friday, we were supposed to go to the Waldorf's but Serena said no, we were gonna stay here by ourselves and hang out, and then she got sick yesterday that's why we didn't go to school today…" Eric shrugs, eyes going back to Blair, "She said not to call you 'cause— of something with her borrowing your shoes… and uh, missing your call and you were mad and it was—"

"Well, she's clearly delusional," Chuck interposes, eyes on Serena's form, "And malnourished."

"Serena!" Blair calls louder, shakes a little harder.

The blonde whimpers then, coughs as she murmurs pitifully, "Leave m'lone," before her eyes flutter open a moment later, "Blair…?" she whispers a little dazedly; the room's darker than it should be, she thinks, and fuzzy around the edges.

Blair sighs a little, relieved, as she nods. She pats Serena's hair and smoothes her arm, wincing a little at the heat emanating from her skin. "Yeah, sweetie… look at you," she mutters, runs her hand gently across Serena's brows, "You totally fall to pieces without me, huh?"

Serena blinks, tilts into Blair's touch and tries to make sense of that… pieces? Pieces of what?

"… shoes…" she remembers vaguely, coughs a little as she tries to sit up, to get them for Blair, "… borro—"

"No," Blair tells her, "You can give them to me later," she offers; gently nudging Serena back into the bed.

"… supposed… go to… your house," Serena continues, words interrupted by coughing as she shifts on the bed, closes her eyes, exhausted, "But shoes… mad… calling…"

Nate approaches the bed on the other side, peers down at Serena with an anxious expression, blue eyes worried, "Is she okay?"

And Blair rolls her eyes, "Does she _look _okay, Nate?"

"She looks sick," he answers; as Serena coughs again.

"She _is _sick," Chuck continues, peering down at her in the same way. They're both standing by the bed on the opposite side now and Blair glares at them.

"And likely contagious," Chuck continues.

"Oh man," Nate mutters dejectedly.

"My sentiments exactly, Nathaniel."

"Why don't the two of you pretend to be useful," she commands, "We need cold medicine and food—like soup, a broth, not crème." She shifts her gaze to Eric, still by the door, "Get me new sheets."

There's a moment's pause as they take in Blair's words; and it's a moment too long, "_Now!" _She orders them.

And they jump, before scattering to do her bidding. Chuck calls for the food, paces in the living room waiting for it to be delivered; Nate runs out to a pharmacy for the medicine, asks the pharmacist for help and buys everything he suggests. Eric digs through the hall closet for sheets and runs them upstairs to Blair.

Blair's sitting against the headboard, has Serena pulled up next to her, the blonde is curled in tight on herself and pressed against Blair's side; her face tucked under Blair's chin. Blair's stroking Serena's hair gently, listening as the blonde mumbles about skittles commercials and pirates…

Eric comes in first, with the sheets and Blair has him set them on the bed and list exactly everything he's given Serena and all her symptoms in the past 24 hours. The eleven-year-old fidgets under Blair's dark eyes, but does as he's told.

Nate and Chuck come up together a little before Eric finishes his reporting; they're sans food, but loaded with medicine.

And Blair nods as Eric finishes; she pulls away from Serena, "Shower, S," she tells her and Serena makes a quiet disapproving noise at the back of her throat when Blair gets up. She flickers her eyes open, sees the hazy outline of Blair and when Nate and Chuck move into her vision she wants to giggle because _slumber party, _but she's too tired to giggle, feels heavy and clumsy and settles for the warm feeling of just knowing that they're there.

"Nate, pick her up and bring her to the bathroom for me; Chuck and Eric, change the sheets." Blair orders, still in charge.

Nate blinks. "Blair—"

Chuck frowns, "I don't—"

"Do you have _better _ideas?" She asks them.

"I don't _know _how to change sheets," Chuck tells her, arching an eyebrow; looking arrogant about it.

Nate shrugs, then moves towards Serena, "Hey," he murmurs as he bends towards her, "I'm going to pick you up okay…?"

"Is your mental acuity really so poor that you can't figure it out?" Blair snaps at Chuck.

Serena tilts her head a little, looks up at Nate, wants to smile and say _hey _back; but coughs instead and covers her face with her hands. His arms come around her even though she isn't looking, and when her feet dangle and she's pressed against his chest, she tilts her face into his shoulder and _doesn't _cry—even if she maybe wants to for some reason that isn't her missing her Mom.

"You'll be okay," he whispers sweetly into her ear.

And then he's setting her very carefully, slowly, on feet and Blair's wrapping her arms around her, slipping off the care bears t-shirt she slept in, guiding her into the shower. The water comes next and she jumps at the feel of it on her skin.

"Shh," Blair murmurs calmingly, watching the way Serena stiffens, "You'll feel better..."

It's a quick thing; and less than ten minutes later, Nate's carrying Serena back to her bed. She's still too hot in his hold, but she's more relaxed, coughing less, and she whispers, _Thanks, _as he settles her against her pillows.

Chuck, Eric, and even Nate had done the best they could with the bed; and since Blair wasn't certain _she _knew how to change sheets, she let it slide.

"Here," Chuck says to Serena, sitting next to her on the bed, extending a small cup to her, "Drink this…"

"It tastes like bubble gum!" Nate says from behind him when Serena blinks languidly at the offering.

"It tastes like _medicine_," Chuck corrects, "With artificial flavorings _meant _to imitate the flavor of bubble gum— but you still have to drink it."

And then he puts it to her lips and tilts the liquid forward.

Serena isn't expecting it and the entirety of it floods into her mouth when she gasps. It's sickeningly sweet and when a glass of water appears near her, she takes it with a shaking hand, and gulps at it.

Blair sits against the headboard again, and Serena curls into her a little, draws her legs up under herself; she feels a little less hazy and murmurs vaguely, "Thanks for coming over, guys..." Knows they're all close enough to hear her.

Blair presses a kiss to Serena's temple and Nate smiles, Chuck rolls his eyes and leaves the room— to check on the food.

He comes back with soup for Serena and Nate takes Eric down to get him a plate of food too; Blair coaxes the blonde into eating and Chuck watches with a smirk on his face.

"What?" Blair asks holding the bowl of chicken broth as Serena takes another sip from it, "You're staring…" she points out.

Nate and Eric come back with enough food for the rest of them, "Brought you your books," Nate offers Blair with a sweet smile, "'cause you like to do homework early…"

And Blair's opening her mouth to thank him when Chuck deigns to answer her question.

He waves a hand towards her and Serena, smirk stretching as he says, "Just enjoying the site of the two of you in bed together…" he puckers his lips, "Very nice…"

Nate laughs and Eric blinks and beside her, Serena giggles.

* * *

**.end.**


	2. Blair

Disclaimer: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

* * *

**.2005.**

**.Freshman Year.  
**

* * *

They were playing field hockey, opposite teams. But Blair had been quiet all day and Serena's gaze, and thoughts, kept flickering to her best friend—which was why she saw it, saw when Blair stopped running for the ball, just stopped, saw the hockey stick slip from her hands and the way one of them came fluttering out to the side, saw the way Blair fell, just _fell, _to the grass into a small heap of shorts and knee socks.

She'd dropped her stick too, stopped running to for the ball too; had shifted directions and intent and headed directly for Blair, heart pounding and so anxious she felt _sick, _because she'd _known _it all morning—something was _wrong. _

By the time she'd come up to Blair, teachers and teammates had been surrounding her and she'd been sitting up, waving a dainty hand in the air and saying she'd slipped, but Serena knew she _hadn't. _She'd _fainted. _

"_I'll walk her to the nurse," _she'd announced a beat later.

And despite protests spilling from Blair's lips, the teacher had insisted and here they were, walking in silence down the halls of Constance, towards the nurse's office.

Serena has an arm around Blair's waist and she won't budge it no matter what the other girl says; because her heart is _still_ pounding and her mouth is dry and Blair had _fainted. _

"You fainted." The words spill from her mouth and Blair flinches at her side.

"I slipped," Blair corrects.

"No, I saw you."

"Serena—"

"I _saw _you," she insists.

Blair pulls away again, harder this time than she had before; and Serena lets her go. Except the brunette immediately wavers on her feet and so Serena reaches for her again, panicked.

"Blair!" she cries, eyes wide.

"I'm _fine,"_ Blair hisses, even if the world is just a little too whirly for her comfort, "Just… a little, disoriented… from my… slip…"

The explanation is disjointed and Serena pulls them a little faster to the nurse's office.

"I don't need to—"

"_Please_," Serena cuts in, sends Blair a sidelong glance, and switches tactics when the brunette looks unmoved, "Prove it— that it was just a slip," she challenges, "And not you _fainting _because you haven't kept anything down for—"

"Okay," Blair interrupts her, her voice a little shaky. They haven't _said _anything about it, not really. Just the same way they haven't _said_ anything about Serena's new penchant for assumed identities, about the _why _of either; just concerned looks and wary words, "_Okay,"_ she repeats.

By the time they make it to the nurse's office, Blair is seriously wobbling on her feet and Serena has to slam down hard on her emotions to keep her voice from breaking as she explains to the nurse what went down on the field.

The nurse nods and Blair is led to the examination table. Serena follows a few steps behind, slowly, as she pulls out her cell phone.

She's texting Chuck: _need ur limo, 15 min., SOS._

And without waiting for a response from him, she's sending a message to Nate next: _croissants & h. choc. by limo, 15 min. SOS. _

Blair looks paler when Serena finally makes it back to the examination room; lying back on the table, eyes closed and face turned a little away, she looks small—too small and Serena swallows hard, doesn't know what to do with all this… even if she does…

The nurse is by her desk, at the computer, gaze intent on the screen.

"So what's the verdict?" Serena asks, keeping her voice calm as she walks closer to Blair.

Blair opens her eyes then, but doesn't sit up; and the nurse explains carefully about low blood pressure and making an appointment to see her own doctor...

Serena nods and is about to speak, when Blair's hand reaches out and grabs hers, pulls her down towards where she's lying, "Don' t let her call my Mom," she whispers fiercely into Serena's ear, "_Please, _S, don't let her…" she repeats, hand gripping Serena's tightly.

There's a frantic edge to Blair's voice and Serena nods, squeezes the hand holding hers reassuringly as she lifts the other one to smooth Blair's arm gently.

And then she straightens, moves away towards the nurse, all bright smiles and careless giggles as she explains, _lies,_ that Eleanor is away on business and Blair's Daddy is in court all day…

There are reservations on the nurse's part, but she doesn't question it when Serena says firmly that she'll be taking Blair home with her—right now, so she can rest.

When Serena moves back to Blair's side, the girl is sitting up, head low and breaths a little shallow, but she whispers, "Thanks," as Serena sidles up next to her.

"Let's get home, yeah…?" Serena says sweetly as she wraps an arm around the other girl's waist.

"Okay… but get _off _me, S," Blair hisses as she slides off the table and steps out of Serena's hold.

"Then stop _swaying, _B," Serena hisses back, when the brunette wavers a little. She clings to Blair's arm instead of her waist and it's a concession both girls can live with.

The nurse moves back towards them; there's a file for Blair to give to her doctor and instructions on taking it easy.

They're in the hallway, and Serena's knows enough to be thankful classes are in session, when Blair breathes a soft _wait, _Serena nods, watches Blair lower her head and draw in a deep breath.

"B…?" Serena's says softly, rubs soothingly at the brunette's back.

Blair closes her eyes, "… just…" she waves her free hand around a little, "… dizzy…"

When Chuck appears at the end of the hallway, Serena doesn't even care that he shouldn't _be _in the girls' hallway, or _in _Constance, she's so glad to see him.

"What, pray tell, is this SOS call about?" He asks as he approaches them, smirking a little.

"Help me with Blair," Serena says without preamble, "She passed out during field hockey…"

The smirk fades a bit, "Is that code for something dirty?"

"It's code for she _fainted _during field hockey,Chuck!" Serena snaps and the fact that Blair hasn't said a word yet, has only opened to look hazily in Chuck's direction, makes her voice sharper than she means. "Just… _come here," _she calls him.

And he does. "Hey Waldorf, you up to no good or what?"

The breathy _shut-up _she issues him isn't anywhere near up to par and the smirk is gone from his face when he takes her other arm and wraps it around his neck, "What'd the nurse say?" He asks Serena as the blonde takes a step away from Blair; no jokes about damsels in distress, not when there's _actual _distress.

"… no…" Blair murmurs, frowning at Chuck, "… _don't…"_ but Chuck's bending down to lift her even as she says it and she's really not in the mood to fight him _and _Serena on it. So she lets her head rest on his shoulder and her eyes fall shut and lets him carry her away.

"Low blood pressure, see her own doctor soon, take it easy," Serena lists, "Hurry up, if someone sees this it'll end up all over that stupid blog."

Serena leads the way as Chuck carries Blair out of the building. Out on the street, Nate's waiting with a bakery bag of croissants and four cups of hot chocolate by the Bass limo.

His eyes go wide when he spots them coming down the steps and he meets them half way there, "What happened?! Is she okay?! Blair…?"

"She fainted," Serena says again.

"_Slipped," _Blair murmurs intensely, lifting her head a little.

And Serena points at the vehicle, "Into the limo," she tells the boys and Nate nods, hands her the drinks and bag and goes in first.

Chuck bends down and carefully slips Blair inside, into Nate's hold, and then he's inside too; and with a last look around at the trees with their autumn leaves, Serena enters the limo as well.

Inside, Blair's settled on Nate's lap, against his chest, eyes open if a little dazed. Chuck's watching her intently and Nate's rubbing his hands over her arms, "You sure you don't want to go see a doctor now?" He asks, apparently for the second time.

Blair doesn't nod, she's holding herself perfectly still, moving makes everything spin faster. "I'm sure," she answers Nate.

Nate exchanges a skeptical look with Chuck; she's at least two shades paler than normal and she still has her hair in a pony-tail from the game— signs of something wrong clear enough to make them anxious.

Serena moves to the far side of the limo, sits beside Nate and Blair and sets the drinks on the limo floor. She pulls out a croissant, tears a piece from it and then shifts and reaches over Nate to hold it out to Blair, "Eat it."

Blair stiffens, feels nauseous at the thought, "Could we wait until I get home before—"

"No," Serena answers before she can finish, wiggling the pastry at her.

"I'm not hungry."

Serena's gaze slips to Chuck beyond Blair, then to Nate watching her curiously, and finally back to Blair, pointedly, "Have a little, Blair," she says steadily, "You'll feel better…"

Blair can read the warning there, the veiled threat; they used to share everything between the four of them, but there are things now… things the boys can't know. She draws in a slow deep breath and reaches out, takes the piece of pastry with a shaking hand and puts it in her mouth; she chews it and she swallows it and when Serena hands her another piece she does the same.

Nate and Chuck are silent; Nate's slowly smoothing Blair's arm, her leg; in what he hopes is a comforting motion. She's ashen and motionless in his hold there's knot of worry in his stomach as he looks over at Chuck with a frown. Chuck's watching the girls' movement intently; a pensive expression on his face, lips puckered in thought.

The mood inside the limo is heavy, something deeper than who didn't call who back, something they can't quite see…

When the croissant is finished, Serena carefully uncaps a hot chocolate and hands it to Nate, "She should drink this," she says to him.

An Nate takes the cup hesitantly, knows by the way Blair tenses in his arms she doesn't like the suggestion.

Blair opens her mouth to protest, but Chuck speaks before her, "We'll _all_ drink," he says appealingly as he moves to pull out a decanter of brandy from inside a panel. They watch him as he removes the lids from all the hot chocolates and pours a dollop into each cup, including the one for Blair.

He shrugs a shoulder when he looks up to find them staring, smirks a little and starts handing them each a cup.

Serena takes hers; and Blair reaches for the cup Nate's holding for her, but he winks at her, moves the cup away from her little, before bringing it to her lips sweetly.

Serena can't help it, she giggles a little and a moment later Nate laughs, even Blair smiles a bit as they drink hot chocolate— slightly enhanced in a much more comfortable silence.

When they're nearly to the Waldorf penthouse, Serena giggles and lifts her cup to Nate's mouth, since Nate's been holding the cup to Blair's lips so she can drink— and Blair laughs a little sleepily, tells Chuck to feed his to Serena; it's five minutes of interconnecting limbs as they finish off their drinks.

And when they arrive, Nate leads the way inside, still carrying Blair, and Chuck sighs as Serena drags him out of the limo by the arm; his, _"What am I needed for?" _answered with a teasing, _"You'll think of something…"_

Blair's feeling less dizzy and more sleepy now; tucks her head under Nate's chin and closes her eyes as they cross the lobby and get into the elevator.

Serena's slipping off Blair's shoes before they even reach the penthouse and the brunette tries to blink back sleep long enough to glare over at her, whispers furiously, "Would you _stop_ with the…" for a moment she can't find the word for it; hears Chuck snicker from somewhere behind her and the sound of the elevator opening, and it comes to her with languid ease, the word, "… _fussing_…" she finishes drowsily and then closes her eyes again.

Serena huffs a laugh and Nate holds Blair a little closer; Chuck sniggers, "Thought you liked being center of the universe, Waldorf."

And Blair sighs groggily, says, "Shut-_up, _Chuck," with more of her usual spite.

They're quiet as they take her upstairs, home early so they're able to slip in without Dorota noticing. In Blair's bedroom, Serena pulls back the duvet and Nate sets her down carefully. Chuck goes to the windows and lowers the shades, makes the room restfully dim.

Blair blinks her eyes open, feels herself more than halfway asleep, sees them standing over her and has to smile a little because Chuck's not entirely wrong, _center of the universe, indeed. _

"Breakfast Club," she murmurs, pushing her advantage. A tradition of when they were all together-- they used to watch much more when they were younger…

Nate groans, "Awww, Blair…"

And Chuck shoots Serena a glare, "_Told you_ I wasn't needed…" he grumbles, "I'm going—"

Serena grins at them, thinks this is _perfect_ and moves to get the movie from one of Blair's shelves. "Of course you're needed!" She says with a laugh, "You can't go anywhere! We're going to watch The Breakfast Club!"

Blair nods against her pillow.

"You're practically asleep!" Chuck argues, glaring at the brunette, "What's the point of—"

Blair looks up at Nate, murmurs his name, "Nate…"

And he looks over at Chuck, "Come on, man…" he shrugs, "Don't ruin it."

Serena's already hitting play and kicking her shoes her off, dropping into the bed with Blair. The boy's stand around awkwardly for a moment and then Chuck sighs, drops to the end of the bed and Nate moves to sit on Blair's other side.

"And don't turn it off when I'm asleep," she mumbles.

They promise not too and Serena pulls the covers up to Blair's chin in a sweetly teasing gesture of tucking her in, Blair's eyes flutter open, still pushing at sleep's edges and she meets the blonde's gaze; there are things they don't say, things the boys can't know— things that are solely theirs to trust with and care for and it's all in their eyes right then, all in the way Serena finds Blair's hand under the covers and Blair gives it a quick squeeze.

"You two want to be alone?" Chuck leers from the end of the bed, "'cause you don't have to mind us…" And the moment breaks with Serena's giggle and Nate's scandalized _dude! _And Blair smiles a little, before letting her eyes slip shut.

It's nearly an hour and a half into the movie when Dorota opens the door and is startled to find them all there; all still in their uniforms, shoes off and ties loosened, lights off and volume set low, Molly on the screen and Blair asleep, cuddled into the covers between Nate and Serena.

* * *

**.the end.**


	3. Chuck

**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Gossip Girl."

**Author's Note**: Set in some indeterminate time post 1.14, but before the full events of 1.15 take place. Thanks for reading! :-)

* * *

**.2007.**

**.Junior Year.**

* * *

He found him out on the sidewalk, sitting with his back to the courtyard fence, elbows on his knees and head hanging low.

And he stops a good three feet away, doesn't get too close, and pulls out his phone; texts Serena: _found, outside, crtyrd fence, _without saying a word to the brunette boy.

He's turning around to leave to when his phone buzzes in his hand: _good, w8 there._

And Nate sighs, the _last _thing he wants to do is _wait there_; but he does, knows Serena will track him down with a frown on her face if he leaves.

Chuck lifts his head then, turns it in his direction, and Nate makes himself _not _flinch when his _former _best friend's dark eyes land on him. He sets his jaw and stares back; and if his feet shuffle a little and he has to clamp down on his lips a little harder, it's _not _a reaction to how to _miserable _Chuck looks.

Serena turns the corner towards them then, blonde hair loose and awry, bag slung over her shoulder and an irritated expression marring her usually sweet countenance.

"How _hard _is it, Chuck, to check in with Eric…?" she snaps as soon she's close enough, "_Especially _since you apparently informed him you were like _dying _in the limo this morning," she huffs, "He's _worried _now, he was texting me all through lunch because you disappeared on him… you know he almost didn't go to class— _Eric._ It's lucky I asked Nate and he knew where you might be and I could send E to class with _assurances _that I'd find you, which I have. And now I'm sending _you _home, because he's completely sure that you shouldn't have come in today and that you did because you're trying to like impress or wow Bart with some kind of exemplary behavior that everyone knows you don't actually ha—"

She's walking up to him as she rants and his head lolls languidly in her direction, she has a moment between breaths and words to register that he looks alarmingly pasty and vaguely panicked before he tilts his head downwards and throws up all over the sidewalk in front of her.

She shrieks a little, surprised, staggers back away from the mess so fast she wobbles on her heels and Nate's there with a hand to her the small of her back even as she squeaks, "Chuck!"

But Chuck's bent over, an arm folded across his middle, head low; and she moves away from Nate, towards him, as he convulses forward, still gagging.

"Are you seriously hung-over?" She gripes, adds, "Jee-zus _Chuck_..._"_ as she bends towards him tentatively.

"… m'_not…" _Chuck gasps, closes his eyes, tries to get his breathing under control; he had _not _felt this crappy when he'd told Eric he was dying this morning, he'd felt headachy and tired and resentful as hell that his father was in town and taking the opportunity to personally discuss every note he received about Chuck undue behavior with him—but he'd not felt like _this_— like there was drummer in his head and a veil over his vision and his insides had turned to jelly…

"He totally is," Nate contradicts, face scrunched up as he studies the mess.

One of Serena's hands lands on Chuck's back, the other goes to his shoulder, pulling him backwards, "You should have stayed home," she scolds and then shoots a look over her shoulder at Nate, "Come on," she calls him, "Let's get him up…"

Nate stares, hesitates. "Uh…"

"Nate!" Serena calls again, sharper.

And he swallows hard and moves to her, towards them.

"… ge' off…" Chuck mumbles, trying vainly to dislodge Serena's hands.

"Yeah right," she scoffs, "So you can fall into a puddle of your own vomit…? _Sure_," she grumbles, "I told Eric I'd send you home when I fou—" her mouth snaps shut all of sudden because he turns his head towards her, his cheek brushing her hand and—it's a brush of heated skin.

She starts at the feel of it, presses the back of her hand against the curve of his jaw, "Are you like… _sick?!" _She accuses, hand moving to his forehead, tilting his head back so she can see into his face. "Like _seriously_…?" she asks him.

He shakes his head despite the stab of pain it causes, dislodges her touch as he shoves himself up, "… g'off me…" he mumbles again, swipes the back of a hand across his face, the other still folded across his abdomen.

And he staggers then, pitches forward a little— and Nate reaches out automatically to steady him; hands going to his arm, pulling him in instinctively.

"We should get'm to the limo, Nate," Serena says, a touch softer now; and she's biting her lip consideringly, fiddling with the phone in her hand.

Nate frowns at the blonde and complains, despite not releasing his hold on Chuck., "Serena, I'm not—"

"You want to just leave him here?" Serena cuts in smoothly before he can finish, not even looking up at him as she texts.

Chuck shakes his head again, winces, pulls free, "… I don't need—"

"You're burning up," Serena interrupts him too because she's already fed up with their little drama— she and Blair had gotten over _it,_ the BFF-sleeping-with-SO _it_, and she knew the boys would too. She saw no reason for her to pretend like they wouldn't. "And you just like barfed, Chuck," she added, "And almost over my Louboutins, by the way…"

Chuck's drifting down the block backwards, stumbles another step; he weaves on his feet and Serena flinches, moves fast towards him and grabs his arm, hisses, _"Nate," _as she tries to balance a lurching Chuck.

The other boy sighs then and reaches for Chuck's arm, but Chuck rears back.

He holds a hand out as if to ward him off, blinks dazedly in Nate's direction, "… don't need—"

And Nate glares at him, "You think I want to—"

"Chuck!" Serena cries his name with a noticeable thread of panic in her voice now, because he's bending forward then, grimacing in pain, and any steadiness he'd managed achieve flees as he tilts towards the ground.

Nate can't _not _stop the fall; arms coming out, looping Chuck's arm around his neck with practiced ease, he glares again at the other boy, "Fuck Chuck, what the hell did you take?"

Chuck's answer is a low groan, his head is throbbing and there's cramping in his stomach that just won't go away and he doesn't think he's taken anything that would cause this, but he can't be absolutely certain— isn't certain of anything at all right then, not even which way is up…

Nate's moving them around the block, to the front entrance of the schools where the Bass Limo is always parked; Chuck's slumping further in his hold and he's not thinking about that, is focusing instead on Serena striding ahead of them, head turning in every direction.

It's only a few seconds later that he sees what she's looking for, rather _who. _

Blair's standing on the sidewalk in front of the gates frowning in Serena direction.

"Where have you been!?" She yells even before the blonde has reached her. "You _left _me! On the steps, Serena!"

"Eric was freaking out about Chuck! He almost cut class! I had to—"

"Now _I'm _cutting class!" Blair shrieks.

"I didn't tell you not to go to class, you could have—"

"No, you told me not to go to _France! _That you'd stand by me through it all! Does any of that ring a bell! Because _all _includes MET steps _and _classes, Serena! So don't tell me I could have gone—"

Her mouth snaps shut then; the flow and volume of words abruptly halted.

And Nate figures that she's probably spotted and him and Chuck; but he doesn't know, has kept his gaze on the back of Serena's glossy hair the whole time.

"Serena…" Blair says the name much more softly, draws it out very slowly as she takes a step closer to her best friend; her eyes on her ex-boyfriend and ex-_whatever _and the way ex-boyfriend had his arm around ex-_whatever _and ex-_whatever _seems to be completely unaware of what is going on.

Serena for her part, is turning to the limo and opening the door, "Get in, Nate," she tells him and then looks over at Blair, fixes her blue gaze on the brunette's face very seriously and says just as softly, "Eric told me Chuck wasn't feeling good this morning and that he couldn't find him during lunch. So—"

"So you asked _Nate _to help you?" Blair cuts in disbelieving.

"What? She's not allowed to talk to me?" Nate snits as he slides past them towards the limo.

And Blair flinches, "No, that's not what I—"

"He's throwing up and stuff," Serena cuts in, "Chuck. I'm taking him back to the suite."

"You are?" Blair asks skeptically as the boys disappear into the limo.

Serena rolls her eyes a little, "Yeah Blair, or did you miss the practically unconscious part of his personality just now…"

Blair licks her lips; she hadn't of course, her gaze drifts to the open door, the back of the limo…

And she slams down _hard_ on those thoughts and emotions; brings it down to the level she can deal with. "You have to come to class with me," she says; thinks of the Mean Girls (and Little Jenny Humphrey) with their smug smiles and their mocking murmurs.

Nate slips out of the limo, "Okay I—"

Serena grabs his arm, tears her gaze from Blair, "You have to come. I need your help."

Nate shakes his head, "Get the doorman to—"

"Everyone reports to Bart, you know that."

Nate presses his lips together; his eyes going flinty, "And why should I care about that, huh…?"

Blair tries not to cringe, she does— but doesn't quite manage it. She looks away instead.

Serena almost rolls her eyes, remembers how at the beginning of this year she'd thought Blair would hate her forever, how Blair had thought she would hate Serena forever. "Because it all comes back to me now," she points out to Nate, "Thanks to this _merging _thing that my Mom and Bart are doing… _please _Nate."

He stares at her for a beat and she bats her lashes once, has her hand still clamped on his arm, and she wonders suddenly if he's going to shrug her off, but sighs then— clenches his jaw and turns back towards the limo; disappears inside without another word.

And when Serena shifts her gaze to Blair, she finds the brunette's eyes fixed on the opening too, though not quite looking inside. It's hairsbreadth of time later when Blair's dark eyes lift to Serena's gaze, a sad tilt to her lips as she murmurs, "All you've ever had to say is please…"

Serena swallows hard; blinks back thoughts and emotions that have _no _place around her, _in _her, anymore. She pulls a up smile and _refuses _to catch Blair's meaning, "Yeah, good thing too— 'cause I really don't need another lecture on propriety from—"

"You can't leave," Blair cuts in, feels anxiety bubble up inside her, "I can't go back in there alone."

Serena meets her gaze, "Come with."

Blair doesn't even have to think about it. "No."

"You should anyway, he's got a fever and like, all I know is that's… bad… and… Tylenol should fix it… you're way better at—"

"_No." _

Serena shrugs then, "Fine, go home and—"

"I can't, Dorota said—"

"Then come with," Serena repeats, voice lined with frustration, "Or you planning to run from them both forever?" She challenges then, eyes daring her, "You stayed didn't you? So _stay," _she offers, "And I'm standing right beside you, you can—"

"Serena!"

Nate's calling her from inside, voice choked with alarm and she turns into the limo without another thought.

The other door of the vehicle is open and Chuck's hanging out of it, convulsing in Nate's hold; Nate's got an arm across the front of Chuck's shoulders, bracing him, keeping him from tilting face-first into the street.

"He's throwing up again," he points out as Serena slides inside.

And Serena makes a face, concludes, "That can't be good."

Chuck goes still in Nate's hold then and Nate turns distressed, blue eyes to Serena, "What do we do?" He asks.

And she stares back at him in silence, momentarily nonplussed; this isn't her role— she brings them together, that's her part, the way Chuck guards their secrets and Nate bolsters their strength and Blair protects their—

"Water," Blair's voice slips into the silence of the limo as smoothly as she slides into the seat next to Serena, she shuts the door firmly and continues, "He should have water…" she clarifies, shifting forward opening a panel to extract a bottle.

She hands it to Serena, followed by a cloth napkin, and then she leans back, crosses her arms in front of her and turns her head to look out of the window.

Serena takes the offered items, "Water! Right!" And reaches across Nate to shut the door as he pulls Chuck inside completely. He nudges Chuck back to lie on the seat and then sits back away from him.

It's the Nate, Serena, Blair sitting in a row now with Chuck lying across from them and it has the potential to be the most awkward limo ride of their life, but when Chuck turns into the leather of the seat, hiding his face and whimpers softly, Serena snaps out of her daze.

She moves to the panel and tells the driver to take them home; then she moves to Chuck and uncaps the water bottle, tries to turn him towards her, but he's stiff and resisting and she ends up shooting a pleading glance at Nate.

Nate, who's sitting at the opposite end of the limo from Blair, glaring out of the opposite window, "Nate…" Serena calls him and he jumps, sees her predicament and moves to help, focuses on that instead of Blair, and the closest he's allowed himself to be to her since—

"See if you can get him to like turn to me," Serena begins, tone already a little rambly as she digs a knee into the seat beside Chuck, perching next to him; Nate nods, sits beside the other boy's head as Serena continues, "And then get him up a little and I'll give him— well try to give him, some of the water— jeez, he's like really burning up isn't he? Maybe we should take the jacket off…? Chuck, drink this okay— it's just water, come on… do you think he needs a doctor? Eric's going to blame me for this, somehow— Chuck, drink a little… and Bart and my Mom are going to find out some way to turn this into us having choose wallpaper together as a family or like the bathroom tile—Chuck, come on… a little…"

But Chuck's turning his head away from her every time she presses the bottle to his lips and trying to shrug out of Nate's hold, because he's fairly certain he's somewhat delusional… he has to be. The headache is driving him insane, he figures, and there's reason why he has to go down willingly. It's the only explanation— because it's Nate he's lying against, who's holding him up and it's Serena's voice whizzing incessantly in his ear and when it murmurs, _serious fever, _it's Blair's hand that brushes against his cheek, his forehead— and he can't really think of any place this would all happen, other than his delirium.

There's little discussion as they reach their destination, just Chuck's low groans and Serena's chatter as she accidentally spills water on Chuck over and over again; when they arrive, Nate hauls Chuck out of the limo towards the front of entrance of the hotel.

Serena slips out, moves to follow, half-full bottle of water and napkin still in hand. But she stops when she feels Blair hesitate, looks back for the brunette. And Blair takes a moment, draws in a deep breath and then follows, determines to take a cab home and _not _get back in the limo. Serena nods, satisfied and they move to follow the boys.

Nate's pausing at the entrance to the lobby, waiting for the girls to catch up; tries to ignore the way Chuck's begun to shiver and the gaspy breaths he's taking, tells himself to _not _say anything, to _not _care— and can't quite pull it off anymore than he can stop thinking _the girls _as if he still wanted to refer to Blair in any familiar way, "It's okay," he's murmuring without thought, rubbing the other boy's back, "We're taking you home…"

And Chuck's head tries to lift a little from where it's hanging low, heavy-lidded eyes trying to focus, "Na—thaa—niel …" he murmurs slowly.

There's a lump in Nate's throat then, because _Nathaniel _is Chuck Bass's best friend. He nods a little as the girls come up to them, murmurs back, "Yeah Chuck, s'ok… soon, you'll feel better…"

And Serena nods, reaches out and rubs Chuck's cheek, says, "Definitely," in a confident tone. She takes up Chuck's other side, Blair slips an arm around Serena waist and Serena an arm around B's shoulders and they curve inwards, so you can't really see any of their faces; it looks like they're all hanging on to each other, all skipping class for fun—not like anyone's drunk or hung-over. It's a tactic they learned long ago, a habit they slip into without any real thought.

Nate leads them to 1812, tells Serena to pull out the keys from his pocket, and they all spill inside with muted conversation and quick steps. They walk towards the bedroom, Blair moving to the computer immediately, Nate's keeps his hold on Chuck steady as they stand by the bed while Serena pulls back the covers.

A moment later Blair starts calling for symptoms and Serena lists what she's seen, _vomiting, fever, chills. _

"He's got like… no balance either…" Nate mutters as he lowers Chuck to the bed, Serena's got his legs and Nate hesitates a moment, really tries to talk himself out of it, but his fingers move to the knot of Chuck's tie before he can; he loosens it, slips it off the other boy.

Chuck shifts on the bed, swears he's spoken to Nate and can feel Serena's hands in his hair even if it _doesn't _make sense.

"Headache?" Blair questions softly, gaze on the computer, not looking over at them.

"Chuck," Serena calls him.

And his eyes flicker open, head turning in her direction.

"Does your head hurt, Chuck?"

And blinks at her, the words swirling in his mind for a moment and then _hears _them; "… _hurts…" _he agrees, closes his eyes because the room is _bright, _mutters, hazily, "… m'tired…" and wishes for sleep…

"Yeah," Serena calls over to Blair, "Headache," and she lets her hand rub soothingly at Chuck's chest.

"Right so… stomach flu…?" The brunette concludes, eyes still on the computer screen navigating the website, "Gatorade and Tylenol and should see the doctor if it's not gone in about 24 to 48 hours."

Serena nods, "Okay… Nate would you go get the—"

"No," he pushes the word out, makes himself straighten away from the bed.

Serena blinks. "What?"

Blair _doesn't move. _

"No," Nate repeats, backing away, "I'm not going to— I can't just pretend— god, Serena!" He shakes his head, "What are we even— what _is _this!?" He cries, a hand outstretched to encompass all four of them.

And Serena straightens too from where she'd started to tug Chuck's blazer off. Her blue eyes on Nate as she shrugs a shoulder, "It's us," she offers him simply, "This is what we are, what we do for each oth—"

"How can you say—"

"Because it's all we really _have, _Nate," she cuts in, wants to show him this thing that she's found with Blair, wants him to find it with Chuck, this way of moving past it the two of them found—knows Blair wants him to find it too, because it's the thing that runs deeper than boyfriends/girlfriends straight through to the underlining of _friends. _"You know that…"

"Then maybe we don't have anything at all."

Serena's not looking, but she can _feel _Blair flinch, knows if Chuck weren't lounging between sleepfulness and waking the boy would have done the same.

"You wouldn't be here if we didn't have anything, Nate," she points out softly, "I couldn't have made you come…"

He shakes his head, "I can't pretend—"

"It's not pretend," Serena calls, "It's… truce; we need those sometimes…" a pause, and then, "Right B?" Serena gaze goes to Blair.

The brunette is standing now, hands folded in front of her, her uniform in perfect form, her eyes dark as she meets Serena's gaze. "Yes," she whispers, "Truce…" she lets her gaze flit to Nate, wants so badly for him to forgive her—but she won't ask him again and then there's Chuck, who's looking less devil-incarnate, more sickly-boy-- and she moves towards Serena, helps her tug him out of the blazer.

Nate doesn't look at Blair, even if his eyes shift in her direction; he can't quite_ look_ at her, not with Chuck and Serena in the room— both of them living, _vivid, _reminders of the wounds they've inflicted on one another.

It's a long moment and then without a word, he moves towards them, helps slip the blazer out from under Chuck.

Nate leaves the suite then, still silent, and neither girl asks him if he'll be back.

There's nothing more to say.

Serena tells Blair she's going over to her suite to get the thermometer and when she's gone, with Chuck finally completely asleep and Nate gone, Blair let's herself _really_ look at Chuck, _really_ want to take care of him, runs her hand through his cropped hair and against his flushed cheek and when he turns into her touch she sighs almost weepily, feels sadness creeping into every breath she draws…

Serena returns with a triumphant, "I found the thermometer!"

And Blair's pulling the comforter up over Chuck by then, had pulled off his shoes and pants and spared not a _single_ thought for _anything_ while she'd done it.

"You or Larissa?" She asks Serena teasingly.

And the blonde grins, rolls her eyes. "Same difference!" She defends with a smile.

They take his temperature and Serena gets a bowl from the kitchen, fills it with water and Blair drops the cloth napkin into it and hands it to Serena to put to Chuck's face.

Nate comes back with supplies, not just Gatorade, but food—for all of them, soups for Chuck and salads, sandwiches and cookies for the three of them— and movies to watch, Disney. He doesn't say anything when he sets the bag down and it's Serena who does all the gushing over everything he's brought. She hands Blair the DVD for Aladdin and starts handing out the food.

They turn all the lights off save for one lamp, because it's easier to be in the room together that way; and Nate sits on the floor in front of Chuck's bed while the girl's take the sofa together. Chuck drifts to wakefulness sometime an hour later, blinks his eyes open to talking parrots and elephants climbing trees, hears Serena's childish giggle and Nate's deep chuckle and Blair's breathy laugh and he thinks, if this is what it sounds like, being delirious isn't so bad.

* * *

**.the end.**


	4. Nate

**Disclaimer**: I do not own "Gossip Girl."

**Author's Note**: Set in some indeterminate time post 2.07, but before 2.08. I know that's kind of technically impossible, but please bear with me, guys—finding a spot to set this during S2 was the hardest part of writing it, lol. ;-) So Nate has moved in with the Humphrey's, but SCB don't know about it.

I hope you're able to enjoy the fluff! Thank you for reading.

* * *

**.2009.**

**.Senior Year.**

* * *

It's a simultaneous gasp and leap to their feet, hands flying to their mouths, eyes widening, in unconsciously mimicked poses; there are other gasps rising up around them, but by the time others have stood they are on their way down to the field.

"_It's what girlfriends and friends do, they support each other." _

Serena had insisted for an hour into Blair's ear that day at school; to which Blair had replied in various forms, _"You are not his girlfriend and I am _certainly_ not his friend."_

"_I'm his friend, I support him; you're my friend, you support me." _

And an hour of that was how Blair ended up sitting on a blanket over cold bleachers, aloofly following the antics of the many boys running up and down a field in pursuit of a checkered ball— a pastime she'd been certain she'd given up when she'd given up Nate.

It's Nate their rushing too now; their hands clasped as they make their way out to the huddle of teammates and coaches.

"It's bad," Serena murmurs as they get closer; because no one's dispersed it yet.

And Blair doesn't respond, silently agrees. It had certainly _seemed _bad; although admittedly she hadn't been paying all that much attention. Still, a collection of shouts and grunts, another player left grabbing his knee, and Nate sitting up _much _too slowly, leaning heavily on the grass—

"Oh my _god_…!" Serena's voice is a decibel above normal and she tightens her grip on Blair's hand as a player moves around to the other side and they see inside the huddle.

"You girls can't be out here," Someone says, "Get back to the bleachers please…"

It's not like they would have have paid attention if they had heard him; but as it is they don't really hear anything except a din of voices.

Because there's blood.

And they've never been very good with blood; it's as simultaneous as the gasping and leaping to their feet had been—they go pale, hearts pounding, and thoughts racing in frantic patterns…

Serena freaks out first.

She squeaks his name, voice low, pitch high—_Nate!_ And pulls away from Blair, pushing her way into the huddle of players; she drops to the grass right beside him, knocking into Dan who's right there too. Blair follows in the wake Serena's opened up and stands above her, her eyes on Nate's profile.

Serena's hands land on his arm, his chest, as she mutters, _oh my god_ and _are you okay _and _you're bleeding _in quick, fretful succession; her hands rubbing and smoothing and her eyes roving over his face. He offers a tiny smile, wan but sincere, mutters back _s'ok, _and she doesn't believe him.

Blair doesn't either.

"What were you _thinking!?" _Serena snaps over the hum of voices; but her suddenly fierce blue eyes are fixed on Dan, not Nate.

Around them teammates are throwing out their own questions, offering explanations, the opposing team is looking edgy, and the coaches have moved a few paces away to speak to the referee.

Blair shifts her position and narrows her eyes at a blonde boy on the grass next to Serena; he backs up. And she moves into the space, bends demurely, and reaches for the bloody, wadded t-shirt Nate's holding against his head.

"Let me see," she says, pulling at his wrist.

And he winces turns his head towards her a little, "No, it's… fine. I just… need a second… and for people to… to back up… so we can get off… the field… and finish the game…"

Blair rolls her eyes, stamps down on the burst anxiety thrumming inside her, tries to calm her heartbeat; it's a residual effect, she just has to breathe past it. "_Fine._ Of course," she drawls; sarcasm helps with the, _breathe past it_, "That's why it just took you 3 hours to say that sentence… _let me see." _

Dan's kneeling behind Nate, a hand on his shoulder; but his eyes are on Serena, "I didn't mean to— I just— I didn't realize—"

"That he was _right next to you," _she snaps, "You got in his way, Dan!" And then she's touching Nate's cheek, "Hey," she adds, voice considerably more soft, "Let Blair—"

"You girls can't—"

"Alright, paramedics almost here, let's you get on a bench, Archibald— oh hey, you girls can't—"

"They won't leave, coach!" The same player complains and Blair makes a mental note, player #8.

Nate bristles as Dan stands and hooks his hands under his arms, starts with, "I don't need—"

And the coach interrupts him, "You just slammed your head against that metal goal-post hard enough to break skin, kid, that merits a hospital visit," he concludes definitively and then he fastens his gaze on Blair and on Serena, who's straightening to her feet beside the brunette, "You two need—"

Dan's hauling Nate to his feet; and Nate feels the entire world tip on its axis, feels the wadded-up t-shirt slip from his grasp and his feet slide out from under him and then he doesn't really feel anything at all…

Dan hisses _shit _and two other boys come at him to help, they guide a sagging Nate to the closest bench and when Serena glares at Dan he shifts so she can slide into place at Nate's side; Blair slips in on the other side and looks up at the approaching coach with unabashed worry in her eyes, it's easier than it should be, and she can see the way the coach softens.

It probably helps that Nate's still bleeding and Serena's trying to let him lean on her and _not _touch the blood while she holds a towel someone had given her to his head; she's got her _almost-crying _face on and the coach doesn't stand a chance when she has to wipe a smear of blood from her fingers on her plaid uniform skirt, not with the way her lip wobbles…

Nate makes a face and groans when the paramedics arrive, says _no _when they suggest a trip to the hospital.

And Blair huffs, says firmly, "It is _not _up to him," and then she blinks wide brown eyes over at the coach, "Is it, Sir?"

The coach plays right into her hands; and Nate's strapped in and headed for the ambulance despite his quiet, but fervent protests in less than five minutes.

Dan grabs Serena's arm when she moves to follow; Blair's already a step ahead of her, following to the ambulance.

"It's not like it happened on purpose_," _he says earnestly, "… I don't even know how it happened, I was running and his feet and my feet… and the other guy and then everybody was just falling and I— I didn't mean—"

She nods, softens a bit, looks over to where they're starting to get into the vehicle, "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry I snapped at you— I just… it's not you— about you, okay… I'm just…" she shakes her head, says, "Sorry," again and moves to follow.

In the ambulance the paramedics ask about health conditions, tetanus shots, and allergies; Nate's responses are slow, a little dazed, so the girl's answer for him in tandem. It's Serena, in the middle of recounting an accident when they were eleven involving rusty rope-hooks and a sailboat, when the blast hits—

— with video, even; Nate bloody and dazed, being carried off the soccer field by paramedics while S and B run after him— captioned with a lilting limerick about missing C's and royal triangles reborn …

"I _really_ hate that _bitch_," Blair hisses with enough vehemence to have the paramedic glancing over at her; she ignores the look, deletes the message from her phone with a furious tap of her finger.

Serena agrees, does the same; and when Nate murmurs, _what, _eyes turned towards her, she smiles and smoothes his arm, whispers, _don't worry. _

Inside, Nate's taken behind doors they can't follow and they're asked about paperwork and whom to contact; the number at the Archibald residence isn't connected and as strange as they both find that they don't bat an eyelash, concoct a story of a remodeling and a cruise with imperceptible hesitation. Blair calls Eleanor's number, mumbles urgently, _Nate's hurt, Mom, just tell them you're responsible, we'll handle it from there, _and Eleanor sighs dismissively, tells Blair _oh fine, _and speaks to an RN.

Blair takes the paperwork to fill out, sits in an armchair in the waiting-room to do it; and Serena walks to the window and then back over to Blair to check on her progress with the forms and then back to the window over and over again…

When Chuck walks in, they're not surprised; rather they lift a pair of _what-took-you-so-long _expressions to him and he ignores them, asks what's going on.

Serena tell him, _tests, waiting, _when Blair makes it clear she has no intention of answering him.

Serena shrugs, doesn't really care about whatever's going on between them at the moment—thoughts focused on Nate's bloody face and dazed eyes; having Chuck there gives her a new spot to walk to since he sits across from Blair rather than beside her, and she's strangely grateful for that.

Chuck stares at Blair; slowly, intensely, eyes running from her high-heeled Mary Jane's past the prim Constance uniform and to her to perfectly placed headband in a slow, invasive manner.

Blair withstands it for moments longer than Chuck thought she would and then she slams the pen down against the clipboard she's holding, "_What, _Chuck?"

He shrugs at her, smirks a little, says, "Just admiring," before going serious, "So what happened out there?"

Blair rolls her eyes and then responds in kind, eyes going serious. "He fell, hit his head on that… metal thing— on the goal…" she shrugs, figures he knows what she's talking about it.

Chuck blinks. "He… _fell?_ Nathaniel? Playing soccer…?" He can't keep the skepticism out of his voice. Nathaniel's as gifted at sports as he is with twins.

"He collided, with others…" Blair continues, "I wasn't exactly… paying attention—though, I think… Humphrey was involved, right Serena?"

Serena turns from the window at the mention of her name, hands twisting in front of her, "Um… yeah, like three people went for it, legs got tangled; Nate tripped and fell forward into the goal post… I think the other boy— from the other team, sprained his knee."

"So he was tripped," Chuck clarifies, lips pursing a little. Because _being _tripped and _tripping _were two different things entirely.

And Serena blows out a breath at the way his eyes are narrowing, "Possibly… accidentally… _maybe_," she equivocates, points out, "It's a _game, _Chuck…things happen that—"

She cuts herself off when a doctor appears in the open doorway, looks over at the MD with expectant eyes; Chuck and Blair turn too.

A concussion, but otherwise fine, overnight for observation, and then home to rest for a few days— good news, and when they immediately ask to see him the doctor asks for parents.

_His mother is on her way, _Chuck says smoothly; knows it's a lie even as he says it; Anne would be here already if she were coming. But he's not worried; there are ways of getting around these things and she isn't needed.

In the room, Nate's lying back on the bed and staring sleepily at the ceiling, there's a white bandage at his temple and the covers are pulled up to his chest.

Serena slides in ahead of Blair and Chuck who can't stop giving each other, by turns, sly and then challenging looks; she slips onto the mattress with a smile and lays a hand to his chest as she murmurs, "Nate, hey!" sweetly, her blue eyes searching his out, "You're looking better…" she adds, feels a rush of relief at the flush of color on his face.

Nate blinks his gaze away from the ceiling; finds it surprisingly hard, vaguely remembers they gave him something after the tests were finished, because his head had really, _really_ hurt…

"Serena," he says, feels himself smile as he sees her. Her hair's falling forward around her face, long and gold, and she's smiling that wide smile of hers that reminds him swinging _higher, higher…_

She touches his hair softly, "I think you're kinda out of it, Archibald…" she says, still smiling as she watches the way his eyes drift upwards a little.

"How are you feeling…?" Blair's voice is oddly cautious as she poses the question; she doesn't sit on the other side of the bed, she stands beside it, a pace back even, as if to keep her distance despite the concern evident in her dark eyes as she studies Nate.

But she's feeling suddenly awkward with Nate; with the memory of the welling of panic she'd felt. There wasn't really cause to feel _anything _towards Nate anymore—and that, that had caught her unawares.

Serena sends her a curious look and Blair ignores it.

Nate turns his head slowly in the direction of Blair's voice, blinks a couples times, "Oh… hey, Blair…" he murmurs, feels a flicker of surprise that she's there which is followed immediately by the realization that he's _hurt _and what exactly that means…

He shifts on the bed a little, feels sleepy and light, like he could float away, closes his eyes as he wonders, "… where's Chuck…?"

Because it means Chuck should be there too; he wants Chuck there too.

And Chuck drops a hand around his ankle, squeezes as he assures, "Here."

Nate shifts again on the bed and goes to lift his head, to look down at Chuck; ends up wincing instead, breathing a quiet whimper.

"You okay?" Serena wonders, her hand sliding to his arm, taking his hand.

Chuck moves forward then, feels it's less likely that Nathaniel will order him to leave since he's asking for him to be there. It'd been a quiet concern of his for a moment there… his relationship with— hell his _role _in the other boy's life felt uncomfortably precarious lately. But Nathaniel had wanted him to be here— and that counted for something.

He walks to stand beside Blair, figures it's a good opportunity to drive her a little insane, and no use passing that up.

"Felt crappy…" Nate mutters to Serena, "Before… maybe coming back…" he finishes with a slight pout.

"Perhaps you should stop moving around," Chuck offers wryly, smiling a little.

And Nate's eyes flicker open, shift languidly to Chuck. There's a memory, hazy and insistent, about him not speaking to Chuck; he can feel it— something niggling, a reason… but it's immaterial and shifty and mostly, it's _good _to see Chuck…

Because Chuck's gonna turn this into a joke, even if right at the moment he can't remember what _this _is… something with… _soccer_ and… _Dan-too-fucking-close_ and _get-back-so-I-can-take-the-shot_…

He blinks again, the impressions fading; Chuck's smirking at him and as wrong as things can go when Chuck smirks, they don't usually go wrong for _him, _so he smiles, wide and easy, because everything's feels okay…

"S is right," Chuck concludes, "You, my friend, are completely smashed."

Nate doesn't really hear the words, but the tone is affectionate and amused, "… m'glad you're here…"

Chuck ducks his head a little, looks, for a moment, almost abashed and then the moment is gone. "Of course you are," he confirms with a nod, "You'll be even gladder tomorrow when I spring you from here and we can laze about my suite in the decadent company of—"

"— in the company of _whom, _Bass?" Blair snaps, elbowing him the ribs.

He takes a step back, doesn't rub at the sore spot she just made, "Why my dear, in the comp—"

"Our company, of course, B," Serena interrupts with a light laugh, "He'll get Nate out of here and then go laze around in _our _lovely and awesome company… and chocolate ice cream's…!" She adds, shifts her hand so her fingers intertwine with Nate's. "We'll get you ice cream…"

And Nate blinks again, their voices drifting around him in an echoic haze; it's a moment before he understands and then there's a vague spike of panic inside him, "… can't… go…" he shakes his head, trails off— isn't sure what he can't do exactly; and he winces at a stab of pain the motion costs him— _stop moving around, _Chuck had said. He stills, "… home's… not…" he swallows, trails off again, can't find

And Serena shifts closer, turns more fully towards him, her knee nudging his side; her other hand coming up to touch his face gently, "It's okay…" she murmurs, "We know your Mom's not home, you can come with us…"

"Well," Chuck states, "Me. I'm thinking more my suite than the family one, sis."

"Where _is _Anne?" Blair wonders.

Serena narrows her eyes at Chuck, "Fine, but then have it cleaned—it's disgusting."

Chuck frowns, a little irritated, "It is not."

"Is so, Chuck. I found a thong in one of the kitchen cabinets once."

"OH, _did _you?" Blair picks up, gaze shifting to Serena, "And _when _was this?"

Serena rolls her eyes, "Not the point, B…"

"No, it isn't," Chuck agrees, "And yes, where _is _your mother, Nathaniel?"

Nate starts a little at the mention of his name, eyes flickering open and he frowns, wonders when he'd closed them.

"Your Mom, Nate," Serena repeats, "Where is she…? She's not home, right? They called, there's no answer at your house…" she bites her lip, "No _service _actually…?"

Nate licks his lips, feels a strange burbling of agitation, of uneasiness inside at the mention of _home_; notions of _cold _and _alone _washing over him and he brings his hand up to rub at his face, to rub them away…

"Ah-ah, Nathaniel," Chuck intercepts the movement, hand wrapping around his wrist, "Let's try not to rub off the bandage, hm?"

The blue eyes that shift to Chuck are unexpectedly distressed and Chuck feels a jolt of alarm in response to them. He moves closer, brushes past Blair, as he lowers Nathaniel's arm back to the bed and then he sits carefully on the edge, doesn't release his hold. "Is something wrong?" He asks quietly.

"Does it hurt?" Serena wonders.

Blair inches closer, her legs pressed against the edge of the bed, hands brushing the sheets, "Do you want us to go and find—"

He _doesn't _want them to _go_; it's the clearest thing in his muddled thoughts.

"No," he says over Blair's words, his hand turning over so it's gripping Chuck's wrist back, "Don't _go_."

There's an edge of panic to the two words and the three of them exchange fast looks.

Before Chuck nods and pats Nathaniel's hand once with his other, "Of course not…"

Blair huffs a little, touches his shoulder, "I didn't mean we'd _go_, Nate. Just if you… need something… I could find someone… to procure it for you." She tells him; he's looking disoriented and upset and she's curiously protective then, because Nate's always been just a touch younger than the rest of them…

But Nate relaxes as the meaning of the words work their way into his mind, _not leaving, _loosens his grip on Chuck's wrist, _they're not leaving_.

And with the release of tension comes a flood of lethargy to take its place, eyes drooping and head falling to one side, he tries to blink them open again, "…s'good…" he murmurs groggily, "Sstay… so no' 'lone… don' leave…"

"We're not going to leave," Serena says soothingly, smiling a little as she leans forward towards him, "We'll stay…" she comforts, brushes back a lock of his hair from his forehead; feels fiercely sympathetic because hospitals have always struck her as hauntingly lonely…

He turns his face, following her touch, and he sighs sleepily.

"Just go to sleep," Blair says softly, watching the way he's fighting it.

"We're still going to be here when you wake up," Chuck adds, his voice low. And they would be—every time.

Serena nods, trails her fingertips lightly down the side of his face, "Sleep, and then you'll feel better…"

It's a moment later and Nate's eyes slip shut, another moment still and his breathing deepens, evens out. They breathe, collectively, easier; Serena leans back and Blair steps away and Chuck loosens his hold. And then they look to each other, expressions almost wry and oddly assured — because this remains, always. A thing they can't wholly express in words, a concept that's become simple instinct— they'll still be here when Nate wakes because this is what they do, what they have— each other.

* * *

**.the end.**


End file.
